


Sink or Swim

by Ysabetwordsmith



Series: Polychrome Heroics [2]
Category: Polychrome Heroics
Genre: Beaches, Gen, Global Warming, Hope, Immigration & Emigration, Islam, Islands, Nudity, Ocean, Superpowers, want ads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 15:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14937074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysabetwordsmith/pseuds/Ysabetwordsmith
Summary: The President of the Maldives needs help.  Aquariana has relevant superpowers.  They make a connection.





	Sink or Swim

**Author's Note:**

> This poem is spillover from the March 18, 2014 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from LiveJournal users Siliconshaman" and Kestrels_nest. It also fills the "sand" square on the [Spring and Autumn Bingo public card](http://allbingo.dreamwidth.org/15669.html). This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. It belongs to the [Aquariana](http://penultimateproductions.weebly.com/aquariana.html) thread of the series [Polychrome Heroics](http://penultimateproductions.weebly.com/polychrome-heroics.html).

Fact: The Republic of the Maldives  
has an average ground level elevation  
of 1.5 meters above sea level,  
and a natural highest point  
of 2.4 meters, making it  
the lowest country on Earth.

Fact: Global sea level is rising  
at a rate of 3.5 millimeters per year,  
and the rate is increasing,  
with conservative estimates  
between 0.8 and 2 meters by 2100  
and more catastrophic estimates  
of 7 meters or more.

Fact: President Mamadou Latheef  
is responsible for keeping his country  
alive, healthy, prosperous,  
and preferably above water.

President Latheef sighs  
and tries to rub away the small line  
entrenching itself between his eyebrows.  
His responsibilities slip through his fingers  
as if he is trying to grasp dry sand.

He can see the problem quite clearly,  
and an assortment of possible solutions,  
but even his excellent skill at diplomacy  
is limited by the resources at hand.

He does not have the money or the leverage  
to pressure large countries like China  
and Russia and the United States  
into cutting out those activities  
that cause climate change.

What he does have  
is political control of a country  
which happens to be  
an utterly beautiful place to live.

_Perhaps,_ he thinks,  
_I can use these resources  
to entice the aid of more powerful allies_.

 

Muriel Green is reading on the beach  
when she comes across the ad:

\--------------------------------------  
_WANTED: People with superpowers_  
to assist the Maldives in withstanding  
the ravages of climate change. Elementals  
with Water or Earth especially solicited.  
Offer includes citizenship, government seat,  
picturesque lodging, and generous pay.  
Must be willing to immigrate.  
Visit our website for details.  
\-------------------------------------- 

In the several years since the accident  
that left her with superpowers,  
she has taken on the role of Aquariana  
and worked to protect the waters of the world.

But. People _stare_  at her all the time,  
because she is bald and has webbed hands.  
She goes nude as often as possible since her skin --  
which is beginning to turn a fine shade of aquamarine --  
no longer tolerates the dry rasp of clothing very well.

Her enemies have figured out that her power  
grows in proximity to any large body of water and  
diminishes the farther she goes onto dry land.

Aquariana is tired of getting kidnapped  
and dragged into the plains or mountains  
or, worst of all, the heart of some desert.

She looks at the map.  
The Republic of the Maldives  
lies amidst the Indian Ocean.  
About 99% of its territory _is_  ocean,  
with the other 1% consisting of  
a necklace of coral islands.

She looks at the rest of the website.  
This little island country has  
come to her attention before,  
given its vulnerability to rising water  
and its interest in green energy, but  
the cultural conditions are a concern.

Evidently the recent upheavals  
have enabled some political changes:  
the new constitution is more democratic,  
and the requirement of Muslim faith  
has been starred with a footnote  
that superpowered immigrants  
of other religions are only asked  
to respect local traditions, not convert.

Muriel's webbed fingers stroke her tablet,  
whose adaptive programming allows her  
to navigate more easily through the album  
of images that show sparkling turquoise water,  
white sand dotted with cowrie shells, and  
palm trees swaying in the tropical breeze.

Here it is early spring,  
a good time for new beginnings.

Muriel opens the application form,  
activates her voice recognition software,  
and begins to fill in the blanks.

_I think,_  she muses,  
 _that I could learn to love that place_.

  
The Republic _wants_   her,  
Muriel realizes, when she receives  
a complimentary plane ticket  
and a hotel room in Mal&eacute.

She doesn't give herself time  
for second thoughts; she just  
packs a suitcase and goes.

The air is warm and wet  
and full of salt from the ocean  
that she can feel surging all around.  
The sheer immensity of the water  
is intoxicating to her.

Muriel meets with President Latheef  
to discuss what they might do for each other.

He is bemused by her nudity,  
even warned about it in advance,  
but he bows to the necessity.  
Perhaps it helps that she has  
a trim, muscular build with minimal curves  
and doesn't look as mammalian as she used to.

The role in government  
turns out to be a cabinet seat.

"I can appoint whatever people I need,"  
he explains, "subject to approval  
from the People's Majlis.  
I want to establish a new cabinet  
for our super-immigrants, who will  
all come with their own unique qualifications."

Muriel admits that she doesn't know  
much about politics, but is willing to learn  
if it helps protect the ocean.  
She has a hard time not looking  
out the window at it every five minutes.

President Latheef offers her a house  
and a whole island to put it on.  
She doesn't want either.  
They talk about that,  
and agree on a houseboat.

The salary is half again what she made  
as a professional swimmer,  
and twice what she's making now  
as a superpowered environmentalist.

"About the matter of Islam ..."  
the President says delicately.

Muriel sighs.  
She can't deny  
that it's an _issue_   for her.

"You probably know that Haboob  
is a nemesis of mine," she says.  
"He doesn't exactly make a good impression.  
Last month he dumped me in the Arabian Desert.  
I almost _died_   before I dragged myself to an oasis.

Outside the office window,  
she can just see the waves glinting  
between the tall buildings of Male.

"Haboob is a disgrace of a Muslim,"  
President Latheef says in an aggrieved tone.  
"So many people think that we are all terrorists,  
and fools like him only encourage them.  
We hope you will give us a chance  
to improve the impression."

"I'm not sure I can, but I'd like to try,"  
Muriel says honestly. Something  
about him makes her _want_   to try.  
"This entire development has been  
pretty traumatic for me, and Haboob  
has made everything a whole lot worse.  
I don't want to be stuck in that mindset forever,  
though, and I'm sick of getting kidnapped."

"It would be difficult for your adversaries  
to reach you here, let alone extract you,"  
the President points out. "Perhaps  
additional security could be arranged,  
given the pattern of past hazards."

"Maybe we could test it for a few months?"  
Muriel suggests. "That would let us  
get to know each other, and find out  
how my power fits with this place."

President Latheef smiles then.  
"We can test it right now, if you like," he says.  
"I've seen you looking out my window,  
and I'd like to see what you can do."

Muriel can think of nothing  
but the water, calling and calling her,  
even as the President leads her to the beach  
kicks off his shoes, and rolls up his pants.

He walks beside her as she admires  
the flawless white sand and the little bay  
spreading out like riffled blue silk.

"Go on," he says.  
"I know you want to."

It is Aquariana  
who runs the last few steps  
and dives into the warm, welcoming sea.

  
President Latheef stands on the beach  
with a bodyguard holding his shoes,  
wriggling his toes against the sand  
as he watches the foreign woman  
frolic like a dolphin in the bay.

She is nude, which is indecent,  
but she is nearly the color of a dolphin  
and hardly looks human anyhow.  
It is still beautiful to watch.

Aquariana swims for hours  
until the sun begins to set.  
From time to time there are signs  
of her power at work -- schools of fish  
moving into and out of the bay,  
waves rising and falling.

The President knows that she is one of  
the strongest Water talents in the world;  
he can well imagine what good she would be  
for keeping his country in fresh water,  
helping the coral reefs survive, and  
buffering the effects of storms and tsunamis.

When she emerges from the ocean at last,  
drops of water dripping from her like diamonds,  
President Latheef takes one look at her face  
and just knows that she will stay here,  
however much she and his people may need  
to stretch in order to accommodate each other.

In the world to come,  
his country will have to sink or swim  
on its own merits and on the strength  
of the alliances it can make.

Looking at Aquariana,  
he feels an upwelling of hope.

**Author's Note:**

> The end notes won't fit here, so [read them on the original post](https://ysabetwordsmith.livejournal.com/3185187.html).


End file.
